long story... short?

Okay, now for a hopefully short explanation.

See, my car had developed a stutter since its arrival down here in Austin.

(By the way, I hate that this is the first story I'm writing since my arrival - I hope to follow this woeful tale with many more wonder and magic-filled ones that involve laughter and peaches, among other fuzzy things! [see other blogs])

Fortunately for my car, I am extremely cognizant of every shake and shinndle (I made up that word just now and it refers to a funny noise just behind the front tire and in front of the engine). I have my grandpa to thank for this. He doesn't own vehicles - he has a relationship with them. He talks to them, pets them, and is always provides for their needs, because he is convinced they will reciprocate. So maybe I inherited it or maybe I'm just modeling what a very wise man does. Either way, unfortunately for my car, I started to notice things. I noticed things about Bonnie (the 1995 silver Bonneville SE) after driving a week or so in the hot, humid, hotness of Austin, Texas.

So, being newly on my own, I decided I should have the oil changed - that always gives me a measure of reassurance. I would at least know that someone had looked at it and given me the roadworthy nod that you get from a friendly mechanic. I did what anyone with empty pockets in a new town does: I found a coupon for a $17.95 oil change on the back of a grocery receipt and tracked it down. When the young man walked into the waiting room and said, "Caroline?" I saw that he didn't have a bill in his hand, instead he said, "I've got some things I need to show you." Hmm. First clue that this first oil change did not go quite as planned. As we stepped under the car and he began pointing out this and that, I gave a knowing grin and a few, "umm hhmm"s to show that I appreciated his thorough assessment, but a detailed quote would do for the day. You see, I have been brought up to always take a mechanic's assessment as kind of the first step of a dance. They say, "You need to fix ..." and I say, "write up an estimate" and then we go on our merry ways. Well, come to find out those issues that I listened to very respectfully were actually problems. Which was when the shudder started.

So (because I'm remembering this was intended to be short), I ended up driving around unfamiliar Austin in search of an Auto Parts store that was open at 8 pm on a Thursday. No surprise, none were found and I set out to finish the task on my own (with no short of 24 phone calls to my dear father!). I found Automatic Transmission Fluid at Target without too much trouble. But before I could pour it into the right opening under my hood, I remembered that in order to open my hood I needed to first drive over bumps while pulling the release. This is one of those times where it's good to have that relationship with the car!! I managed to get the hood open, find the opening, and pour the sticky liquid through the funnel.

And off I went, amazed that the car hadn't exploded or broke in half. That's when I realized the blessing of things working!

Today was another story - finding a respectable shop (which I did successfully!) and then hearing their idea of estimate, to the dancing tune of way more than I could pay.

I guess I'll write next about my cup of coffee: the medication for normal, I've decided.